


Last Moment of Clarity

by Sonny



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Challenge (Fuh-Q-Fest 2003-by jbtribute), M/M, POV First Person, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-21
Updated: 2003-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-13 14:18:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Debbie realizes that Brian is in love with Michael. I like the voyeuristic type where everyone can see it. Something involving Brian and Michael brings Debbie to this realization, what does she do with this info?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To my fellow BrianandMichael Yahoo members... I live to please you all : To Gale- For giving my *muse* some FIRE to work with: And to those *silent* fans who just read my stuff for simple pleasure... taking a minute or two to let their mind slip away into my world... WELCOME!!

CHRIST!

About an hour ago, I returned from a midnight shift at the Diner. I came in, like I normally do, after I work my ass off, to find Sleepin’ Beauty all tuckered out on my couch. No pillow for his head. No warm blanket to ward off a chill. Like he just stumbled through the door, walked to the edge of the arm of the couch and let gravity pull him down.

He’s face first in the cushions. Six-foot plus frame dangling over the arm. He’s still dressed in his clubbin’ *uniform*. He looks very uncomfortable, but he’s either too drunk or too wasted and higher then he’s ever been to care. He’s been having battles with his eyelids. They’ve won this round, ‘cause he’s softly snoring.

I wonder how long he’s been in this position, because once he wakes up it’s gonna be worse then a friggin’ crick in the neck. He appears like he attempted to undress himself, but coordination wasn’t a top priority. The thin black T-shirt is ridin’ high up his torso, exposing the small of his back. Tight leather pants have been undone, hanging off the top portion of his rounded bottom. I don’t see nothin’, but skin. Damn!

Oddly, this wasn’t unfamiliar territory. When he was younger, cuddled serenely in my son’s bed, he’d forget to take off his socks and sneakers. I’d just be coming in or on my way out for a late shift. The times Michael wasn’t there, wrapped in Brian’s arms, I’d find him snuggled in my empty bed, my pillow tucked under his chin. Before I went into my bedroom, I’d walk to Brian’s side, brush back that mop of beautiful brown hair, gently kiss his cheek, slip off both sneakers and pull up the covers to tuck him in,like he’d been needing for hours.

It took me years to get over myself, the fact that Michael might be missing my presence. No, there were two factors I discovered. One was that Michael was being considerate, waiting up for me so we could talk. Find out how my day had gone or how his day at school had been. This was also Michael’s time to ask me questions. Questions about anything he felt comfortable askin’ me about. That’s when I learned the second factor in why I found Michael in my bed...  


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**

 

  
**Flashback...**   


**I liked our early morning discussions. Michael was still groggy, but awake enough to hear me. Strangely, it was like I was talkin’ with his subconscious. Michael’s honesty, the fearlessness, could be brutal and shocking. I first heard the name I’d come to love and hate in the same breath... Brian Kinney. And... this was also when I first learned of the power this young man had over my only child’s fragile heart.**

 **Young man? Yeah, I don’t think Brian ever had a chance to have a childhood. He was too reserved... too suave... too calm and in control around parental figures to be considered a *child* by any standard. He was wise beyond his years. That wasn’t always a good thing. At first, it intimidated me. Made me wonder why Michael would choose to have a boy like that as a best friend. All the other friends had been similar to Michael, or slightly different. Brian was quick witted and sharp. He knew every trick in the book to get on my good side.**

 **Brian was more distinctive then I would have liked for Michael. I had promised my son, once he reached high school age, that I would try to curb my involvement in the decisions he would make in his life. Vic and I butted heads, all too often, on the topic of Michael’s upbringing, but we both loved him enough to back away on some issues.**

 **As long as we kept our discussions as open and as *real* as we could, we knew Michael had a safety net to stumble and make mistakes. I didn’t want to back out of my promise, so I had to let Michael find out, for himself, his place in Brian’s world. I grew worried when the only friend Michael hung out with was Brian. I soon discovered I owed that Kinney kid more respect. All of Michael’s “so-called” friends had bailed on him, or dropped out of his life.**

 **Brian Kinney was always there.**

 **I thought their relationship was becoming too much like Hero-worship. All Michael’s conversations contained the phrases “Brian did this... Brian did that...” What scared me the most was, during one of our late night chats, Michael asked me point blank...**

 **“Ma... what does REAL love feel like?”**

 **How do you respond? How does a mother react? Do I become as forthcoming as possible? Or do I fake it and lie?**

 **Okay... my curiosity got the best of me. I had to know the origin of the question. “Why do you ask, Michael?” I responded, tryin’ to ease the *mother* in me.**

 **I don’t know. I thought maybe he was askin’ because of a certain girl he liked. A classmate that lived in our neighborhood. She and Michael used to walk to school together. They had always made an adorable couple.**

 **Michael didn’t speak for almost five minutes. I thought he had gone back to sleep. Instead, he opened those precious puppy dog eyes of his, tears pooling in their quiet beauty, looking at me with a speck of hope.**

 **“He kissed me, Ma.” Michael admission was spoken so softly, I nearly had to lay my head close to his, on the pillows.**

 **“Who?” The only thing that ran through my mind was some freak pedophile in the neighborhood. I had no idea to the extent of his inquiry.**

 **“Brian...” Michael looked down, playing with the material of my chenille coverlet.**

 **“The Kinney boy!” I spoke so loudly, so rudely, even I was a bit taken back.**

 **“Ma!” Michael scolded me. He was always very protective of Brian and his reputation. Even with me. I could talk about anybody else, but Brian was the exception. Off limits. Usually Michael would tell me to “butt out”, that Brian had enough shit to deal with from other people. I didn’t need to add myself to the growing list.**

 **I climbed onto my side of the bed, the mattress shifting by my added weight. Michael reset his body to align with mine. I folded my hands over my chest, laying on my back, waiting for Michael to explain the exact scenario. The moment Brian had *kissed* him. I knew the simple act had rocked his soul. Teetered him on some imaginary fence he’d built between him and Brian. Shaken my son into some feeling he’d been secretly hiding from even himself.**

 **Jack Kinney had taken the boys bowling. Michael was a piss-poor athlete, so he always lived vicariously through Brian. There was some monumental thing about Brian bowling a strike... and then a second one...**

 **“I was so proud of him, Ma...” Michael stared off on to the far side wall. His voice dropped to a more private level, as if he didn’t want anyone else in the house to hear. “I cheered loudly enough that I think I might have embarrassed him. I know he kissed me, just to shut me up, but...”**

 **“But what, Michael?” I don’t know why I didn’t prepare myself, but my expectations had no where to go, nothing to cling to. I was wandering through my own mind, wondering what Michael was gonna say next.**

 **“I felt... I felt overwhelmed, Ma. Like my heart was actually gonna burst.”**

 **I knew there had to be more. “And...?”**

 **“And then... Brian’s dad comes over, calls us a couple of ‘friggin’ fairies’... turns his wrist, like so...” Michael demonstrated with his own right wrist. “One minute I’m standing near Brian, then he just shoves me to the ground. I slid halfway down the lane, into the gutter.”**

 **I though Michael might have hurt himself, which would explain the tears. “That little asshole!” I always found myself immediately pissed off with Brian, no matter what explanation Michael had for me.**

 **“Ma, no! It’s not Brian’s fault... at all. There’s something wrong with me!”**

 **Gosh! How could words actually stab a person in the heart?**

 **I hated when Michael allowed his self-esteem issues to win. In my eyes, my son was perfect, a true prince and a beautiful flower just waiting to blossom into a handsome man. “Oh, yeah?! What?” I was personally going to rip a new one on whomever had told my son he was *damaged*... unlovable.**

 **“I don’t know, Ma. I like girls. I like most of them. They’re sweet and they smell nice, but... I don’t like ‘em, like ‘em. Now, boys... that’s a whole ‘nother story.”**

 **“Boys?!” Oh, Lord Almighty! Vic had been right! “You mean more then one... or are we talkin’ about just ONE... Brian?”**

 **“What do you mean? Brian’s my best friend.” Michael almost sounded defensive, all too quickly.**

 **“Michael, right now... Brian is your ONLY friend.” I didn’t feel good about stating the obvious, but it was also the truth.**

 **“That’s not his fault, either. I told you... something is wrong with me.”**

 **That was the moment I heard the words *love* and *Brian* in the same sentence. And the meaning of this *love* took on a heavier meaning then just a friendship kind of love.**

 **Michael had become privy to some fantastical things in Brian’s home life. Things he felt like telling me about, but somehow couldn’t vocalize, because it was a promise he had made to Brian that he’d never divulge unless tortured for days by angry wilde beasts. I had to honor that wish, but it made their relationship take on a more surreal image for me.**

 **All this time, I had thought Michael was learning how to be a man by Brian, when it was actually Brian learning how to stay a human being.**

  
**Flashback End**   


 

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I knew Jack and Joan Kinney. Jack’s reputation as a Ladies Man was fairly legendary. I knew Jack had a drinking problem. I knew Joan tried to keep what semblance of *family* she could, in the face of such disgrace. A devout Christian, or Catholic, I wasn’t, but there were times I needed a bit of help from above and frequented a variety of churches. Joan frequented the confessional a lot, spent an inordinately amount of time with the priests. I had my own ideas about what kind of a home Brian Kinney was trying to escape from.

There are times I wished I could have done more, gotten involved enough to have Brian removed from such destruction to his spirit, but I did what I could. I kept him in my home, when his parents were glad to see the back of him. I gave him as much TLC as I was able so that, hopefully, when he walked out my door, he’d remember how much value he had in this world. My only comfort was knowing that Michael was there to keep Brian from slipping out, unnoticed. Fading to black like he never even existed.

So I come back to my second factor, as to why Michael would climb into my bed, abandoning Brian to his dreams. Michael said that, sometimes, Brian scared him as he slept. He’d cling tightly and whimper like someone was hurting him. He’d quiet down after Michael would use his hands to soothe and comfort, but they’d quickly return. Nightmares and dark shadows chasing Brian. I know Michael knew what they were really about. And it was because of his love for Brian that he had to leave for a few minutes. Finding a bit of peace... tranquillity with me, so he could go back to Brian and take care of him like he wanted.

I found myself crying on those nights. For both my boys.

Yeah... pretty soon, I began to think of Brian Kinney as a son.  


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**

 

  
**Flashback...**   


**He’d eaten enough of my food for me to know he loved and respected me more then his own mother. I wondered what they fed him.**

 **I recall dropping Brian off one day... a Sunday to be exact, letting the boys run up to Brian’s room, so he could hand Michael some math notes, or something to do with school. I wandered in, bringing a Tupperware dish of my leftover lasagna I had made for dinner Saturday night. I was gonna look for another container to put the meal in, but the cupboards were bare, a frequent pile of plates and glassware, but nothing of significance. Then I shrugged, knowing that this wasn’t my most sacred Tupperware bowl.**

 **I opened the refrigerator to find an even sadder state of affairs. Plenty of beer, a few bottles of wine, some cheese, a few boxes of leftover take out, one egg, half a stick of butter and a few bottles of condiments. Nothing for Brian to eat to substantiate having a full meal.**

 **What worried me the most was that Brian had told me his parents had taken Claire, his older sister, away on a long weekend to visit some colleges. They wouldn’t be back until late Monday night or Tuesday. They had left Brian with no food in the house. Had they just expected me to adopt Brian over their long weekend? That wasn’t the impression they had given me, initially.**

 **Michael and I left Brian there, home alone, to go back to our house. It just ate at my soul to try and understand how parents could treat their own child like that. I woke Michael up out of a dead sleep, that night, drug him out of bed and told him we were gonna go grocery shopping. He whined and groaned about being tired. When I told him what I had found in the Kinney house, he was wide awake and ready to move.**

 **Luckily, we found a 24hr grocery store. Took us about a half hour to reach it, but we shopped for only the essentials. Michael chose a few *decadent* items... junk food, if you will.**

 **When I knocked on the front door, it was nearing eleven o’clock. I had no idea even if Brian had stayed at home.**

 **He came to the door in jeans... nothing else. Michael busted in like the charmer he was and I casually stepped over the threshold. Brian looked me up and down. He caught sight of the plastic bags in my hands, but was more intrigued by my form of dress.**

 **“Deb... you’re wearing fuzzy slippers...” Brian didn’t know what to call me, so we agreed on “Deb”. I didn’t mind.**

 **“Yeah... and I brought you some things.”**

 **“No... you bought me the fuckin’ A & P!” Brian smirked, waving me in out of the chilled air. “What is this?” He played at peeking in the bags, wondering what was going on.**

 **I walked into the kitchen. Michael was already putting away the bags of groceries he had taken in. “We went shoppin’...” He wiggled his eyebrows in fun. “... for you.” He made it sound like we hadn’t taken time out of our own sleep to cater to Brian’s needs.**

 **Brian stumbled in his bare feet, looking behind him to hold onto a counter ledge. “Is there more in the car?” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Something was holding him back from crying.**

 **Michael scampered about, not caring that he had found the desolation of the fridge and the cupboards that I had seen only hours ago that afternoon. “Yeah... a few more bags.” Michael had some items in his hands that Brian immediately relieved him of.**

 **“Go get them. I can take care of these things.” Brian shoved Michael off to head back to the car. “Deb... you can’t afford all of this.”**

 **I tried not to look at him. I knew if I did I’d be sobbing just like Brian felt like doing. I busied myself with filling the deli drawer in the fridge with sandwich meats. “I can afford it, Brian. Don’t you worry. I had some extra cash.” I shrugged off the need for a compliment.**

 **Brian strolled over, crossed his arms over the top ledge of the door, handing me some refrigerator items. “Thank you.” He let his hands linger on mine to show me his care. He knew what I had sacrificed for him. It wouldn’t go unnoticed.**

 **I know he doesn’t say it often, but when he does, he sincerely means his thanks. And it was when I came back up from reorganizing the shelves of liquor and wine that I felt the arm come from behind me. The tall, lanky frame pulled me close. Brian kissed my naked cheek. He was telling me more then he could vocalize, so I patted his forearm in ease. “I know, honey. I know.” I might have felt a tear fall on my shoulder, but I wasn’t going to mess with Brian now.**

 **Brian had a sixth sense about Michael. He was far enough away from me, in the next few seconds, when Michael returned, that he could show he hadn’t opened up his vulnerable side. I was cool with that, but it was kind of nice to know that Brian felt he could tell me how he really felt, but only on HIS terms. That would have to be good enough.**

  
**Flashback End**   


 

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I’m watching Brian sleep and I feel my own body aching just looking at him. I can’t allow him to do this to himself. I plop my butt down on the coffee table, reach out to push back the matted, sweaty hair from his face. The cheeks are beginning to show a faint stubble and I caress it’s surface.

“Briiiaaannn...” I manage to stretch out his name in a sing-song voice. “Wake-up...” I shake his muscled shoulder. “It’s time to go to school...” I used to love watching the boys squirm by that remark, when I used to wake them up on the weekends.

Those hazel eyes of Brian’s droop open, closing periodically by the fog in front of his face. “Hey, Deb...” He buries his face back in the cushions.

“Brian, if you’re gonna sleep on my couch... can you at least wake up enough to scoot up and fill the entire length? You’re all hanging off the end and stuff.” I kept trying to pull down his shirt, pulling up his pants.

He swatted my hands off, then suddenly he lifted his head as if realizing he wasn’t quite certain where he was. “Did you just get in?”

“I been here an hour, but I can’t sleep.” I didn’t want to admit to him what I’d been thinking about for days now. What had been keeping me awake most hours, minute by minute.

Dragging a round pillow over, Brian smashed the side of his face into the material, hoping to ward off harsh noises and light. “I’m sorry. I know how this must look, but I’m only slightly drunk, but mostly tired.” He yawned to show just how much.

“How come?”

Brian tried to avoid my direct eye line. “Did Michael come back?”

“Back?” This was new. “I didn’t know he’d left. Well, I knew you two were going out tonight, but... that’s not relevant, now. What happened?”

“We had a fight.”

“About?”

“Stupid shit.”

“Thanks for the clarification.”

“I don’t know if Michael wants me to talk about it.”

“Well, guess what? This is my house. You’re on my fuckin’ couch and I’m up... so I say, if you’ve eaten anything out of my fridge... you better start sayin’ something.” I was only teasin’, but something crossed Brian’s features that made me lose my humor, awfully quickly.

“What in the hell did you do?” I knew it couldn’t have been Michael’s fault, although he was known to take the blame of Brian’s doings without a moment’s notice.

Brian reached up a hand to the other arm, practically crawling on his belly to make his body fill the entire length of the couch. “Nothin’... I swear. It’s like he fuckin’ snapped on me.”

“He finally had enough!” I thought I had said the words under my breath, but the way Brian stared at me, told me I had spoken very clearly.

“Excuse me?!” Brian rolled himself in my great grandmother’s quilt I had placed over the couch’s back. He appeared less threatening wrapped in all that gingham material stitched in zig-zag patterns.

“What did you two fight about?” I hoped he’d forget what I said and begin talking.

As Brian was about to speak, he paused long enough for us to hear a key in the door. He hid himself under the quilt, whispering, “I’m not here.”

I looked up to see Michael pause at the base of the stairs, he had been about to storm up to his old bedroom. He gestured to the couch. He mouthed the word “Brian?” in question.

I nodded my head, but let the words I’d been ordered to say slip out. “Brian’s not here, Michael.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Michael leaned back against the wall. “Good.” He spoke loud enough for Brian to hear. “Well, when you DO see that asshole... will you tell him I’ll be upstairs... if he wants to come to his senses and apologize... groveling at my feet...” He nodded his head to draw home his point. “Good night. See you in the morning!” He was off!

“Is he gone?” I heard Brian’s voice from under the quilt.

“Yeah, Brian... he’s gone. If you didn’t do *nothin’*... what in the hell has pissed Michael off?”

Brian wasn’t coming out from under his hiding place. “I don’t know, Deb. Like I said... it was like he fuckin’ snapped. Things have been going really great with us. After Ben left and Justin moved away... maybe I thought things would settle back to their old ways...”

“You tried to score while you were with Michael?”

“Score? What are we... in high school?”

“I don’t know, Brian... you tell me?” I got up to sit in my recliner off to the side of the couch. The coffee table was getting a little hard on my bottom. I waited long enough so Brian would think I left. He’d finally lift that damn quilt so I could see his face.

Brian looked one way, then found me off to the right in the recliner. “I think... I think that I may be too late...”

“Too late for what?”

“Michael really hates me. I mean REALLY hates me.”

“Preferable to...?”

“Loving me?” Brian raised one eyebrow in question.

I shook my head. “Brian, Michael’s love for you hasn’t wavered in the past twenty years of your relationship, even while he was with David and Ben. Michael has been clear on how he feels about you since he was fourteen. That won’t ever change.”

“You sure?”

I had to chuckle. “I’m pretty damn sure, kid.”

Brian turned his head, staring into the non-working fireplace. “Then it’s me...”

I was bewildered by his long pause. “Then it’s you... what?”

Brian shuffled about to sit up, still wrapped in the quilt. “It’s me he doubts... maybe, you, too.” He tried not to look at me, but found that was impossible.

“What are you tryin’ to say, Brian?”

“Out of all the years you two have known me... neither of you think I’m capable of loving him. Loving him as much as he loves... or loved me.” Brian picked at imaginary lint on the surface of the quilt.

“HIM? Meaning Michael?” I had to be sure.

Brian was slightly flabbergasted. “No, Deb... Vic...”

“Smart ass.”

Brian held up a hand. “Yo! That’s me!”

“No, that’s crazy!” I was about to push myself out of the chair when Brian stood, with surprising strength and forced me to re-take my seat.

“No... what’s crazy is my need for you and Michael in my life. What’s crazy is that it used to be easier... so simple for you and Michael to know me all those years ago, but somehow, now, beyond the time we’ve grown up, matured, you’ve lost the sense you had of *me*. Like I’ve been taken over by some pod person. Just some lazy shell of my former self...”

“That is such bullshit!” I don’t know why I was growing angry. Maybe I was harboring some leftover frustration from work. Maybe I was more tired then I thought and this was my dream. I don’t know, but something was telling me Brian was sobering up.

“Prove it, then!” Brian snapped at me.

“Prove what?!” I was confused by his request.

“Prove to me that you know I love Michael more then he could ever love me. Show me a moment in our lives that you can recall... in full detail... that told you that I loved your son.”

I was stumped. Bowled over. Strike one, for Brian.

I think he got scared by my silence. He backed up to sit down again. “Or did you ever believe that I loved him, at all?”

I knew what he was askin’. He wanted to know if I thought all the years I had known him that he wasn’t pulling the wool over our eyes. He wasn’t trying to scam us out of something. His own family had disowned him, throwing him into the cold. He wanted to know that the genuine love he felt for Michael and I was actually believed to be... REAL.

WOW! What could I say? Proof?! Brian wanted me to come up with ways I was assured of his love for Michael. I needed time to think. I needed time to recall those moments I had caught Brian looking at my son... that certain way that just made my heart swell with pride, and a bit of jealousy. I was witnessing something special, something out of my realm and spectacular. Those moments when I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, only that Brian was beginning to feel something real for Michael. Brian was picking up things I had been noticing, since I held that beautiful baby boy in my arms.

Maybe my jealousy tended to blind me to being able to see clearer, unbiased. Maybe Brian had gotten so good at shielding his emotions that when he DID become open, expressive and vulnerable it looked trite and selfish.

Those gorgeous hazel orbs stared intently at me. I could feel them boring holes in my skin. Brian knew how to shake me up, make me quake in my boots. Cause me to think about my whole attitude of late. Even though they were older, supposedly grownups, I still treated them like they didn’t have sense enough to tie their own shoelaces.

I know I had made it all too certain of my thoughts on any possibility of a budding romance between Brian and Michael. I’d seen Brian break Michael’s heart, despite not being boyfriends. I hated saying that I wanted *better* for my son, like Brian wasn’t good enough. He’d gotten plenty of that from other areas of his young life. I wanted THE BEST, for both my boys, so much more then what either of them were limiting themselves to.

Not that Pittsburgh was a shit can town. It’s our home. There was just so much to see then just our backyards. They didn’t have far to go. There was still Philadelphia. I’m not saying they had to spread their wings wider then a fifty-mile radius. New York City and Portland were too tough for me to handle. I know how that must sound, but I’m heavily into family and I had wanted to keep both Brian and Michael as safe as I could. I realize my heart could still reach them, but, maybe, I was being a little selfish. Out of all the men in my life... these boys, and Vic, are ones I would give my life for. I love them... beyond words.

The eager anticipation on Brian’s face was palpable. I pushed up out of the recliner. “Can I do some dishes, while I think on this?” I was already making my way over.

“Let me help.” Brian uncurled himself, from under the quilt, trailing behind me. He turned on the faucet, patiently waiting for the water to warm. He glanced down, noticing his pants were still undone. “Oops... pardon me.” He swiveled to do up the buttons and ties.

My mind was running rampant on other things besides Brian’s state of undress. How far back did he want me to go? I had a few images in my head, nothing concrete, nothing with details. I was clearing off the kitchen table, ready to soap up the sponge, when I paused long enough to watch Brian. I always liked when I could sneak these opportunities in as he did simple everyday activities. The shocker came by seeing the intricate care he took in all efforts put forth.

There were piles of dishes, from every meal of the past two days. Brian emptied the sink and the dish bin, placing each item on the counter, next to the sink, to his left. The interesting thing about this boy was that people generally believed he wasn’t as hard a worker as he was. They thought he was weak-kneed, wimpy and lazy. Too good for menial clean up jobs. Oh, how wrong they were. Everyone assumed, so no one asked him to help.

Brian was meticulous about the steps involved in specific chores. If it needed to be done, Brian would complete each task until he was satisfied with himself. Glasses were grouped, and stacked, with other glasses, varying in size. Plates piled, small to large. Silverware was set on top of the plates. Mugs were segregated in their own grouping. Pots and pans were rinsed out of extra grease and large portions of caked on food. They went beyond the perimeter of the regular dishes, on the counter top. He was taking so much time preparing to DO the dishes by hand, I hated reminding him that I had a dishwasher.

He was now filling the plastic dish bin with hot water and dish washing liquid. He used just the tips of his fingers to churn the reaction, creating sudsy water. Twisting his head, Brian focused his caramel eyes on me, over his right shoulder. “Think of anything, yet?”

Christ! I was knocked out of my long stare. I truly didn’t know how to answer. “Uh...” That’s when my eyes bounced about the room. My gaze landed on a series of photographs, through preschool until high school graduation. Michael’s school pictures. It was like my private shrine to my miracle child. My precious baby boy. A single wall paneling, off the kitchen, hidden by the half-wall that separated the living room from the dinette/kitchen.

I regretted having only six pictures of Brian, beginning with he and Michael’s Freshman year of high school. My photo collage ended with Brian’s college graduation. I was so proud of both my *sons*.

I recalled those early mornings. Of being able to secretly eyeball them in the bathroom, on their way back to Michael’s bedroom. Sharing clothes, buttoning shirts, tucking them in, fixing cuffs, styling hair, shaving the growing facial hair, tying shoes and then standing back to admire each other. They’d run down the steps, Michael always first, with Brian following, immediately smacking into the back of his best friend.

They would try rushing for the bus, never make it and force me to drive them in. I usually didn’t mind being the taxi service. Gave me a chance to look them over, myself. My inspections were always in jest, because I knew they were trying to impress each other. Nobody else mattered. They didn’t mind dressing in nice clothes and going to formal functions.

I leisurely strolled over toward Brian, throwing him the sponge. He caught the square object, dipping it in the water. “I think I got a good one. Actually, might be a few good ones.”

The expression of happiness on my face made Brian excitable. “Come on! Dish! Tell me!” He turned off the water, shoving the faucet head over to my side of the sink. He began to put dishes back in the soapy water.

“Freshman year. Mornin’ of the school pictures. Both of you were dressed so handsomely.” I gestured my head toward my wall of fame.

Brian walked over to peruse the images along the wall. He brought the dish towel with him to dry his hands. He glanced over each photo, seeming to want to touch them badly. He didn’t want his grungy palms marring the pristine upkeep. He pointed to the first photos of him and Michael, separately “This is... Freshman year, right?” He glanced back at me.

I glanced to where Brian was pointing. “Yeah. They go in order. Left to right.”

“Michael looks as adorable as he does now... Like he never truly ages, just matures...” Brian seemed transfixed by each image of Michael, like he hadn’t seen them before.

I found that an odd comment to make.

Brian shook his head out of his random thoughts. “I’m sorry. I interrupted you. Continue.” He came back over to allow me to finish what I was about to say.

“It’s that *look*.”

“What *look*?”

“The one you just gave to those photos. Like you’re right back where those pictures were taken. The very hour. The very morning. The moments when you practically devoured Michael with one glance. He was IT for you. All your concentration seemed focus in one direction. On him.” I leaned my arm along the edge of the counter. “I’d see Michael sprint down the steps, you chasing him. Both like your pants were on fire, but you’d stop him. Because somehow, in the time between upstairs and downstairs, Michael would have messed something up. Hair out of place, button missed, or a lace undone. You’d grab him by the shoulder.” I felt I had to demonstrate the visuals. I took Brian’s shoulder in my hand. “Like so... you’d settle him, calm him down, tell him to breathe. He’d stare at you, amazed by the words coming out of your mouth. You fascinated him. He was dumbstruck by your tender care. You’d fix whatever was broken on him. He was smitten from minute one.”

Brian swallowed, heavily, looking down at the tiled floor. “I must admit... he was quite a sad case before I met him. But there was something... I can never truly explain what... but he had this way... of making me feel needed. A certain purpose. Like he was a fuck-up, or a complete idiot, just to allow me the grace to have meaning in my life. I adore him for that.”

I let my hand trail down over his chest, resting over his heart. “I know you did. I saw it happening, but didn’t want to admit it. I had no idea that Michael could be so cunning, so secretive. He’s fooled us both. We love him to pieces... would easily sacrifice our lives for him... and he’s pulling the wool right over our eyes. He’s not so simple-minded, he’s not as naive, or innocent, as we think. He’s made us believe that he needs us, when it is the OTHER way around, isn’t it?” I had to lift Brian’s chin up. He still couldn’t look directly at me. That was fine with me. I knew that I was getting to him, finally making him see sense.

Brian pulled his face out of my grip. His eyes penetrating my own. “What else you got? Tell me, while we do these dishes...” He tried to pretend like he wasn’t affected, but I could tell he was holding back some serious emotions.

Good God! This night would go on forever.

I thought I wouldn’t be able to come up with another thought, until I watched Brian hand me a plate, cup or saucer... I can’t remember, but he managed to get a bubble of suds on my forearm. It was what he did next that triggered my memory. His hand brushed the soft cloud off my skin, but left a trail of soap. He giggled, blowing at the suds. He was caught in his own world of cleaning off my arm. I didn’t care, either way, but Brian seemed determined to wash the soap away.

“Mr. Byler’s farm.” I put out the comment, wondering if Brian would pick up on it.

Brian scrubbed diligently on each dish, utensil and plate. “What about it?”

“Remember... I used to take you and Michael there. The neighborhood kids came in droves, after a few years. The pond on his property. During the fall, he’d take out all the fish, let the cold weather freeze the water solid. He’d pack the snow high off the sides of the pond. That first year was pretty archaic. Nothing was there to invite people to come. We just ice skated. Wasn’t until two years later that Byler built himself a lucrative business. You boys wanted to go... every weekend, it seemed like. I had been trying to get Michael to skate, for years. You made him fearless. If you were going to be there, Michael was willing to try anything, even if it put him in harm’s way.” I shook my head. I couldn’t believe how much power Brian had as a young man, but had never realized what he had been doing. I rinsed off each dish, placing them in the drainer off to my right.

Brian paused, lost in some thought. He closed his eyes. “Yeah... now, I remember. Old Man Byler was the one who actually took care of us kids, made us the ice pond. His son hated little children, but he disliked teenagers even more. Boys, especially. Thought we were *punks* and *hooligans*.” He snickered at the random memory of yet another adult who took one look at him and made assumptions to his character.

“Michael was never athletic, not like you were. You took to sports like a duck to water. No one had any patience where Michael was concerned. He gave up on himself, before he let someone grow tired of him. But not you. You wouldn’t let him off that easily. I have never seen a more determined soul, then you.” I took intricate care of washing the dishes Brian was handing me, lost in my own head, as the memory just flowed through me.

“He was too hard on himself. Gave in too soon. He was scared of being hurt.” Brian went back to washing once he realized what he had said.

I could have played around with Brian on that one. Teased him about ONLY being there to save Michael from physical pain, forgetting the emotional let down he’s made my son suffer. Or tell Brian that his own comment could very well apply to how he was dealing with his own deep emotions for Michael. I left it alone because I knew Brian and I sometimes thought on the same wavelength. He was already aware of how open he’d made himself. I just went back to explaining my story.  


 **==========tbc...==========  
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[](http://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AeKjF_KZqdm0ZGQ2emh3dHpfNDkwajhqY3hkOA&hl=en)

 

  
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	2. Chapter 2

  
“Michael fell for... what seemed like the eight or ninth time. He was near tears, biting his lip. He didn’t have the nerve to cry in front of you. Show you a weakness.” 

Brian made a face, shaking his head at how much Michael always worried over everyone else’s feelings. “I wouldn’t have cared.”

“But he knew that YOU never cried. That was enough to make him suck in his gut. I was about ready to call it quits. I had become popped, as well... sitting on a bench not too far from you boys. My heart told me to run for my baby boy. Stop the other kids from laughin’ at him. My head... my instincts told me to wait. Michael would have to grow up one day. Learn from his mistakes. But he didn’t move a muscle. I was having second thought so just leaving him like that. Then... here you came...” I remembered how fascinating it looked, that Brian could sweep right in and make the situation better.

Brian sniffled out a laugh. “I saw you. Looking to me. Like it was my turn to lick his wounds. My responsibility to pick him up off his ass, this time.”

“You didn’t, though. You skated, flawlessly, over to him. He had to back away from the spray of ice you sent in his face. I would have given anything to know what you exactly said to him. You spoke right at him. Didn’t touch him at all. Deserted him in the middle of the huge pond. Michael was outraged. His mouth gaped open in shock. I thought I’d have to skate out to get him, since he wouldn’t get up off his butt. My skates were already off. I sat in utter disbelief, prepared to chew you out. Then the strangest thing happened. Michael grew into this ball of frustration... and anger. He watched you, skating around him, with the other kids. I think they began to feel sorry for him. Offers of help were turned down. Crawling to his knees... all knobby knees and wayward arms... he waited for you to come around again... Then he pounced. You had to spin, in order to right you both, which made you begin to skate backward. Michael followed, pushing and growling at you... yelling in your face. You couldn’t wipe that shit-eatin’ grin off your face. I know he must have asked you what was so funny, because you then bellowed, ‘Michael... you’re skating!’” I had to chuckle at the image of Michael, going through so many feelings at once. From sadness to embarrassment to anger to pure joy at a simple accomplishment.

Brian smirked as he recalled that exact moment. “He was shocked. The minute he glanced down at his feet, he lost his balance. Arms and legs went flying. I tried to grab him on th way down, but he just took me with him. Landing us both in the snow drift... he on his back... me on top...” He paused as if knowing that same feeling that had pulsed through him, still ravaged his body every time he looked at Michael.

I decided to finish up for him. “Michael was crackin’ up laughin’. Hootin’, hollerin’ and carryin’ on. He was covered in snow, head to toe. You tried to brush him off, clean up as much as you could. Michael wanted to skate again. This time you did help him up. Barely held onto his hands, skating backward to the other end of the pond.”

“He was completely drenched, but happy. The weather was growing colder. A few minutes more of skating he’d be a frozen popsicle.” Brian was speechless for a few minutes. The one sentence explained Michael’s character. Always looking beyond the bad to see the good. “I was proud of him. I knew he could do it, if he just focused on what needed to get done. He worried too much about what everyone else thought. How you’d probably run straight over, babying him... ending this moment of FUN for him.” Brian was washing up the last of the dirty dishes, a frying pan.

I nodded my head at what ended up happening next. “We came home. It was a Saturday, you were staying the weekend. Michael wanted to go again on Sunday. Coming up with all these new ways you could add skating into your after school activities.”

“The neighborhood ice hockey league... was insane.” As Brian finished cleaning up the sink and the dish bin, turning it over to dry, he pulled out the coffee pot. He reached over for the coffee grind jar and filters.

I washed the last pan, rinsing out my side of the sink with the spray hose. Drying my hands, I went over to the fridge, looking around for the last portions of the pie I had made the other night. “Thank God we rid him of that fantasy.” I chimed in as Brian filled the coffee pot with water to dump through the top. I taught Brian how to make good coffee. He’d filled the one at the Diner plenty of times when I asked the boys to help me during the summer.

Brian and I worked like a team. We didn’t need to say much. He reached up into the cupboards for small plates, while I grabbed two forks and a cake knife from the utensil drawer. I placed the slices of pie on the plates. Brian found us some, clean dry mugs. I set the pie plate in the center of the table, in case Brian wanted seconds. Seemed we both had the same idea on how we wanted out discussion to continue.

I took my seat first. Brian carried over the coffee, setting the dish towel over his shoulder. Throwing a leg over the chair seat, he took his spot next to me. He scrounged around for the sugar packets, pushing the container close between us. Spoons already sat on our cups to help stir. “You know what this reminds me of?” Slowly, but surely, this time alone with Brian was severely jogging my memory.

Grinning widely at having another wonderful thought about Michael being talked about, Brian took a bite of his pie. “What?”

“Roger Billows.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Christ! What made you think of that asshole!? I think you should have let me go after him. He deserved to get his ass kicked!”

I stared at Brian, wondering if he was just being selective in his thoughts. “Excuse me? If I seem to recall... you were partly to blame.”

Brian put up a defensive hand. “I did what I could, Deb. I warned him about that punk. Told him he ran around in a bad crowd.”

“Yeah... nice alternatives you gave him. Stuck at the dance with no friends and no ride home. Or being the third wheel on your *date* with Pete Miller.”

“I wasn’t on a *date*. Pete still had a girlfriend. He just liked his special relationships on the side.”

“Jesus! You were so twisted, kid! Giving your body up to young boys who didn’t give a flyin’ fuck about you or your feelings! I’m glad Michael wasn’t a part of that scene.” I hoped Brian knew how much this hurt me, being so honest.

Brian glanced down at his plate, knowing how terrible he was to Michael at certain times where sex and personal satisfaction was involved. “Why do you think I left him at school?”

“With no way home?” I bellowed at him.

“I told him to call you!” Brian bit back, wiping his mouth with the dish towel.

“Yeah... good idea. Except I was thinking you boys had a ride already set up with Lonnie Pinetti. What? Did you ditch him, too? I took on the extra four hours on my midnight shift. Then I get this frantic call from Patty Pinetti. She tells me she’s seen Michael getting wasted and drunk up on Concord Pike.”

“I already told you I was sorry, Deb. Michael was gonna do what he was gonna do. Neither you nor I had any control...”

“But we both tipped the scales for him, didn’t we?” I never told Brian that I hadn’t really been as upset as I was in the flesh. I felt more guilty then him, because, yet again, I was working for the *almighty* dollar, leaving my son in someone else’s hands. “I should have known better then to trust Emil to have someone to cover that shift, but I already had differences with the manager before. I wasn’t about ready to leave the Diner without kissin’ some ass.” I made the sour look dissolve off Brian’s face.

“Deb... I thought you were givin’ me *glowing* memories of Michael? So far...”

I put my fork down. I was already to the crust edge of my pie. I crooked my arm on the table top, leaning my cheek on my balled fist. “That wasn’t the part I was thinking about, knuckle head.” I reached over to swat at Brian. His reflexes were quicker then Michael’s. My hand was snatched in midair. The grip changed from a tight squeeze to one of gentleness, as he delicately held onto my fingers, kissing the top, fleshy part of my hand.

“Love you, too, Mom.”

That word never failed to make me proud when Michael said it, but when Brian used the name... it cut me deeply. Not in a bad way, but in a way that tore at my heart. Joan wasn’t my enemy, just a misguided soul that should never have been given a son like Brian. She and I had a Love/Hate relationship. She despised Brian and I loved him. “Stop that. Right, now. I’m not gonna cry! You can’t make me.” I quickly took my hand back.

Brian shook his head. “I’m not trying to make you.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I interrupted you again.”

I sighed heavily, knowing that this one was going to make Brian see a different light to himself. “You and I both came home the same time. Both of us shocked that Michael was no where to be found. We went searching for him. I took Patty’s news with us as our first stop.”

“We looked for hours, it seemed like, but we found him... right where Lonnie’s Mom said.” Brian kinda chuckled at the absurdity of being able to find Michael so easily.

“At first, he didn’t want to come home. He was pissed. At both of us, for not being there when he needed someone. Roger finally kicked him to the curb. Told him why he REALLY wanted Michael as a *friend*. He wasn’t worth the ass kickin’ you and I, both, woulda given that little shit! I had to hold you back, physically, while Roger’s friends took off once the cops showed up. They’d just gotten a call about ‘suspicious activity’ in the supermarket’s parking lot. Thank God we got Michael in the car before the officer saw how drunk he was.”

Brian was growing curious about the *point* I was getting at. “I’m not seeing it, Deb. What does...?”

“Hold your God Damn frickin’ horses, kid! You climbed into the backseat with Michael intent on getting him to confess what he’d been up to. Not a peep out of him. We pulled up to the house. The second you opened the door, to let Michael out, he threw up on your shoes... twice...”

Brian nodded as he slowly began to remember. “Yes... yes... yeah, okay... and I helped you bring Michael in. Sick as a dog and mopey as hell. He kept talking in my ear about something, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was too affected by the stench coming off him. There was some interesting talk about mailbox battery and cow-tipping... I’m sure that’s where he got that awful smell of manure on his sneakers. Good God! How could I have forgotten that?!”

“Easily. But I think it was what you did next that overpowered what had happened after the dance. You became Michael’s caretaker... in my place. You soothed him about feeling sick, you coddled him about getting his heart broke about Roger... Brian, you showed him a side of yourself that you’d never been able to give before.” I tried to think back to when I had ever seen Brian treat another person so gently. His guilt was fueling him, but I could tell that it was more his hidden feelings laying deep under the surface. Someone had beaten it into him that those emotions should be squelched. They were unimportant and worthless.

Brian grew quiet, contemplative. “Because I used to do the same for Joan.”

“Christ!” I had to cover my face. “Fuck! I’m sorry, kiddo.” I was notorious for the dreaded hoof-in-mouth disease. I felt his arm grip one of my forearms.

Brian tried to bring my arm to the table top. “Don’t apologize for something that was out of your control, Deb. It was my home. It had been my life for fourteen years before you met me. Michael saved me more often then I helped him.” He wouldn’t let me have my hand back. “Can I tell you something? Promise not to laugh?”

“Why would I laugh at a time like this?”

“I’ve never seen him.”

“Who?”

“Michael.”

“Michael...? Seen what?”

“You know...” Brian used his eyes to make a subtle gesture to his *groin* area. “Down there...”

I was struck dumb. When had it ever occurred to Brian that I’d be curious to that nugget of information? “Down there? Brian... as promiscuous as YOU are... and you can’t say the words?” I wanted to giggle outright, but that would be rude, I thought.

“Admit it. You’ve always wanted to know how safe your little boy was in my hands.” Brian held them out, palms up for me to look at. “That night, I threw him in the shower in his boxers. He came out in a towel. I helped him dress, after he put on his clean underwear. I put him to bed. End of story.” He chopped his hands to show the *finality* of it.

“Bull... shit!”

“Excuse me?” Brian stared in outrage.

“That is the biggest load of bull malarkey you’ve ever said to me. What you don’t remember is me... that night. Where I was in all this...” I was growing eager to dispel the *myth* of Brian’s selfishness and cold heart.

Brian placed his hands, in prayer, on the table in front of his mouth, nervously biting on his thumbnail. “Where were you?”

“In the background. Just fuckin’ window dressin’. Michael didn’t want me to see him like this... all wasted and broken. He kept beggin’ you to shut the bathroom door on me. So I just left, went into my room and quietly sat on my bed. I knew when I was no longer needed. But, if I was silent enough, I could hear you two talking...”

“Oh, yeah? What did you... allegedly... hear?” Brian tried to be *tough man*, but the jig was up.

I knew the true Kinney soul.

“You sang to him... so softly. I heard the splashes, in between, of the bath water. You stayed beside him, making sure he didn’t pass out... and drown his sorry ass.”

“I still never peeked, Deb.”

“Brian!”

“What?!”

“Stop berating yourself! I’m tired of this crap! I don’t really care whether you peeked or if Michael tried to lay his dick right in your hand.” I was truly getting frustrated at telling Brian how much I knew his REAL feelings for Michael had never been far off my mind. In fact, they were the most forefront.

“Nice mouth!” Brian sputtered out as he took a sip of his coffee.

“I have to compete with your filthy one, might as well join in on the fun.” I wanted him to know he couldn’t hide from me much longer. “And that night... like every night following, when you spent the weekends... and some weekdays... with us, you put Michael to bed. Brushing back his hair, tucked in your arms, under plenty of blankets... you fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. So don’t tell me that I don’t KNOW how much you love Michael, Brian! It’s so fuckin’ blindingly real to me... it...” I almost lost any semblance of speech. “Leaves me... breathless.” I put a hand to my chest, right to my heart. “I love you, kid. I know, for certainty that Michael loves you... and I am damn sure that you return that love, but...”

“But what?” Brian sat up in his chair. His caramel eyes bore into my face.

“But what I’m not sure of... is how much YOU believe in yourself. That you’re running scared. Like you said about Michael. I think you are too hard on yourself... you give up too soon... you are... so scared of being hurt...” I think I might be showing too much honesty, again. I feared I might force Brian into hibernation... forever.

Brian let himself fall forward, elbows on the table surface. He buried his blushing face in his arms. “I don’t deserve him, Deb.”

“Who does, Brian? Because you have surely ruined him for anyone else.”

“I didn’t mean to...” Brian whined, just like Michael would have.

“Yes, you did. We took you in... forced you to love again... how could you NOT want a family of your own, kiddo? You deserve so much more then what you allow into your heart.” I pulled my chair closer, combing through that mane of mahogany hair. It smelled like spices and was warm... soft to the touch.

Memories and images came rushing at me, into my frazzled mind.

I remembered when he could never get his stupid hair to do anything as a teenager.

I remembered how he cried for Vic when we got the news of his illness.

I remembered how he held onto us all when he had to go away to college. He hated leaving us, but the heartache was worse to come visit during school breaks.

Most of all... I remembered how... when he embraced Michael it wasn’t like a normal hug. Arms outstretched and then encircled about the waist. He always pulled Michael to his chest, close to his heart. Tuck his face in the side of Michael’s neck, press a tender kiss to the pale skin. Then he’d... let go... sighing and falling completely into Michael’s hold, which would tighten out of security. Brian would find other, interesting ways to envelope Michael. Brian’s sculpted, willowy fingers would run willy-nilly over Michael, caressing, fondling... sometimes tickling, but they ran about with unnatural curiosity. To see if Michael was REAL. That this friendliness... this gentleness... this love... was true. Genuine.

Brian Kinney didn’t suffer fools easily.

This beautiful man... sitting beside me... had known nothing but pure pain and torture for half his young life. Anyone would be an idiot to think Brian wouldn’t be affected by the abuse. His value... his worth was to be discovered in the family, friends and loved ones around him. For every year he suffered under the rough hands of his father, the vacant hands of his mother and the disbelieving hands of his older sister... Brian deserved five times the happiness.

The unfortunate side of this whole deal was... Brian still thought this way. That he should get nothing less then what he had as a child. I was bound, and determined to show him this was not the case.

“Maybe... we’re all useless garbage, Brian. Unlovable and lacking in worth... but we have each other. You wanna be certain of Michael and I believing in you. That you love Michael... and who gives a shit about me...” I was beginning to feel the tears surface, because as I watched Brian lift his head, I saw all the proof I needed.

Tears from Brian made me lose faith in God. To think that a wondrous spirit like this kid had to fall so deeply into despair for someone to want him... desire him... love him for who he was... fallacies and all...

I couldn’t speak my heart, for, maybe, a second. I took a deep gulp of air, willing myself to be capable of saying these words. “You have to love yourself, Brian... before you can dare to even question Michael. It’s your own doubts in yourself that’s preventing you from moving further in a relationship with my son. I don’t need proof. Michael doesn’t need proof. You’re the one who needs the proof. To make sure your foundation isn’t shifting, like before. You’ve tried to love... and instead you got hate and indifference. But it’s not your fault, honey.” I brushed back the wispy spikes on his cheek, moving my face toward his little cocooned area, in his arms, on the table. I rested my ear on his biceps, leaving my lips on his moist temple. “You’ve been wandering around for so long... blind to what you needed to work at a commitment. It’s not that hard, really.”

Brian lifted his head, slightly to wipe at his eyes and above his upper lip. “Yeah... you think so?” His watery hazel orbs glanced, fleetingly at me. “It can be done... even with me?”

“We are all salvageable, kiddo. We just need to find the One. The One who knows us... better then we know ourselves. That loves us, despite our faults. Beyond the ugliness, they see our beauty... and not just outside... but here...” I put my hand under the table, coming up under to place my palm on his chest. “... right here... where it counts.” He slowly began to nod, moving back, gripping my hand to his right breast. His kissed my fingers, with such care... I choked... placing a hand to my own lips.

“Thank you.” Brian struggled to say the simple words.

“No...” My voice was barley audible anymore. I let the tears fall freely now. “Thank you... for loving my son...”

Brian closed his eyes, taking in his next breath, uneasily. “Do you still have the box?”

On Lord! I almost forgot my task for the week. I paused, pulling back from Brian, wiping at my own eyes. “I think... wait a minute...” I had been on such a roller coaster of emotions, I had to get my head back on track. Where had I put that box Brian gave me? I squeezed the bridge of my nose.

A-ha! I knew! I got up out of my chair, heading for my sewing table. I opened the drawer to find the familiar red velvety surface. The box was a slightly square shape, a little elongated. I had no idea to the inner contents, but I could guess. I tossed him the box, retaking my seat. “Linds and Mel have the party all planned? For tomorrow?” All I had been told was that this was going to be a SURPRISE party for Michael. In honor of what... I didn’t know, but the box was giving me a few thoughts.

Maybe, Brian hadn’t been having as many doubts as he assumed.

“Yup. Everything is set and ready to go. All I need is for the Guest of Honor to show up at the right moment.” Brian suddenly grew his second wind. He stood up, gathered all the dirty dishes and began to steer me out of the kitchen. “It’s time for bed, Deborah. Come on... no more procrastinating.” He shut the light off. “They’ll keep until tomorrow.” He was trying to save me from washing the dishes we’d filled in the sink. “Up, young lady.” He pointed up the stairway.

With wide eyes I walked up, feeling Brian right at my back. Shit! Was he gonna follow me all the way to my bedroom door? As I continued on to my room, Brian stopped at Michael’s bedroom door. I saw him hesitate, hand almost around the nob.

“Hey! Deb...”

I felt the sleepiness hit me, square in the face. Damn, where had that feeling been all night? As I swivelled to face Brian’s voice, I was met with arms open wide. Those muscular limbs just took me in. Every fat, chunky inch of me.

Brian sighed, letting go, giving himself up to my embrace... so I gripped on tight, tears resurfacing. He nearly lifted me off the floor. “I want... desperately, to be a part of your family, Deb. It’ll be all right...” His hand went to the back of my red-haired wig, soothing the tension. “I will make it all right.” He pressed a light, feathery kiss to my cheek... winked and went back to Michael’s door. He knocked with his index finger’s knuckle. “Michael!?”

From deep inside, I heard Michael’s voice. “It’s unlocked... asshole!”

Brian’s last look at me was placing a hand over his heart, raising his eyes to the heavens as if those were the sweetest words he could ever have heard uttered. He opened the door, just fanning his heated face at the love he felt pouring from Michael.

I chuckled until my belly hurt... and I grew quiet as soon as I heard the loudest chuckle from my sweet baby boy. Brian was, apparently, apologizing in any way Michael would allow him.

Right this minute... it sure did sound like a pillow fight... or some rough tickling. I shook my head, stepping into my own bedroom, hoping I could fall asleep easily.

Damn kids...  


**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
I was sitting up in my bedroom. Dressed as casually as I could for a special occasion, in this cool fall weather. I didn’t know what it was for, but I wore my best slacks and frilly blouse. My heart fluttered to think of what might be happening downstairs. 

This morning Brian had given me back the responsibility of the box.

I stared at it... in my lap. It was taunting me to open it.

I heard a soft knock.

“Come in.” I turned my head, feeling naked without my red curls. I hadn’t put on my wig, yet. My face was devoid of any make-up, too.

Michael poked his head around the door. “Ma? You okay?”

Christ! I quickly maneuvered to shove the velvet box under my pillow, out of Michael’s direct sight. “I’m fine, sweetie. Why would you think I was sick?”

Michael shut the door, leaning back on the paneling. “You’re not downstairs. In the kitchen or the backyard. Everyone’s here, except you... and Brian. You let Emmett make the Pasta and Marinara. I had to come make sure you were still alive.”

Just seeing my son’s beautiful eyes, filled with such care and concern, felled my most secret emotion. I covered my face with my shaking hands. “Oh... Michael...” I choked at the last minute. I shouldn’t have been given box *duty*. Too many thoughts and hidden fears were running through my head. I didn’t want to let Brian down, but his sudden disappearance was wearing thin today.

“Shit! Ma!” Michael fell to his knees in front of me, trying to pull my hands away from my face. “You can tell me whatever you need to. We’ve always been able to say things to each other. I would think we’d get beyond a point of silence after this long.” His easy smile made me chuckle. He reached up to wipe away my tears. “Are you hurt?”

“I ache...”

“Where?” Michael was inspecting my body for damage.

I grabbed Michael’s hand and placed it with mine over my chest. “Here... for you.”

Michael’s eyes started to tear up. I knew I was scaring him. “Ma... why? What’s wrong?”

“Brian...” I paused, glancing over at the pillow where the box lay hidden. I wondered if we should just forgo formalities and just open the damn thing. I had to be sure of Brian’s commitment to my son. I wanted Michael to see the proof, should his faith ever waver.

“What about Brian, Ma?”

My inability to speak wasn’t helping, but I had no idea on how to tell him. Another knock sounded on my door.

Michael raised his body, turning to face the door. He didn’t want to cause me embarrassment. “Come in.” He quickly wiped at his own eyes.

Vic popped his head in. “Just came to see what was taking you so long, Michael.”

I kept my head averted from my brother, sniffling.

“We’ll be down shortly, Uncle Vic.”

Vic looked at me with wide, sorrowful eyes. “You okay, sis?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Michael put a hand on my shoulder.

“Ma and I need to talk. We’ll be down shortly.”

“Fine.” Vic was about to leave, still curious to my state of distress. “Oh... by the way, Brian’s here. Just pulled in.”

“Thanks, Uncle Vic.”

I shut my eyes in pure relief. How could I have doubted that boy?! I felt so guilty... so disgusted with myself. What had I just been telling him early this morning about believing in others. I couldn’t even give him a shred of hope that I could change my *mothering* tendencies to protect my baby boy.

Who... was no longer *mine*... to have... forever.

Who would be someone else’s... if my thoughts were on the right track.

When I reopened my eyes to see Michael back on his knees in front of me. I, frantically, encircled my arms around his neck. I tugged him close.

I knew then, I wasn’t afraid of losing my son... of Brian causing hurt to Michael...

I was afraid of being left alone. To flounder about, trying to find my own way without Michael by my side. No one to care for me. No one to love me as much as I knew Michael did. How much I knew Brian did. I knew suddenly what it must feel like to lose the use of a part of your body. To still have the feeling inside of you of having that limb.

“I love you...” I blurted out in puffs of air.

Michael shuffled about to hold onto me as tightly as he could, he knew something was going on inside of me, that he couldn’t get to unless I allowed him in. “Love you, too, Ma... Wha-?”

I quickly released him, shoving him back. “Go on. Go downstairs. I’ll be there. Don’t worry about me.”

“You sure? You don’t need me to help you with anything?” Michael was hesitating, shuffling at the doorway.

I knew he was already wanting to go see Brian. I wasn’t gonna be the one to keep him. “Go!” Michael blew me a kiss. I faked catching it with my hand. As I came down with it, holding my hand to my bosom, I took a deep breath. I’d suffered and mastered worse. I should be happy.

What am I saying? I was happy.

Michael was happy. Brian was happy. This was supposed to be a happy, special occasion. I tugged that velvet box back out. I stared at it for a few minutes before I stuffed it in my blouse pocket. I picked up my red wig, heading for my bathroom mirror.

Time for the show to begin... and time for the next chapter in my life to start all over again.  


**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
“There she is!” 

“Deb, where you been!?”

“Finally! Let’s get this party started!”

Mel and Linds had done a beautiful job. The decorations were as generic as any I’d ever seen. It didn’t clarify exactly why we were all here. Emmett’s array of food was fabulous. Out did me any day. I was envious.

As I looked up, across my backyard, I caught a heavenly sight that left me breathless. Brian and Michael stood... closer then ever. Brian had an arm wrapped about Michael’s neck, Michael had an arm tucked about Brian’s waist. They fit like puzzle pieces. Brian bent to whisper something in Michael’s ear, made Michael laugh and curl into Brian’s hulking body. They both got lost in the moment, as did I.

I took one of my deep breaths, trying to prepare myself for when Brian called me over to do the *gift* giving... the box burning a hole in my thigh. I tried to mingle with the people in my yard, but too many faces blurred and went out of focus. I made a bee-line over to the table set up with drinks. I grabbed a cool, refreshing bottle of water, from the ice bucket. My throat was so dry.

The minute I took my first sip, gulping down nearly half the bottle, I heard the dreaded words.

“Excuse me! Can I have everyone’s attention, please?!”

My back turned, I heard Brian’s voice boom over me. There went my cue. I weeded through the clumps of people to find a clear path to Brian and Michael’s side. I stood, peacefully quiet, hands behind me, prepared to do the hand off, once Brian asked me for the box. I had no idea to how Brian would carry out the announcement. My heart was in my throat. I took another slurp of water.

Everyone grew silent, murmurs still flourished because of the way Brian and Michael were holding onto one another. People were probably getting the same idea I was. I couldn’t blame them. They were being fairly obvious.

No one was fooled.

Brian slowly detached his body from Michael’s. “Debbie...” His right hand waved me over. His head turned to glance at his best friend. “Michael...”

All talking, of any kind, stopped. Only mother nature’s sounds could be heard.

The minute I took out the box, a collective gasp filled the silence. I thought that was what Brian wanted, but once my box toss had been given... he swiftly grabbed for my fingers. “UhUhUh... not so fast, Debbie!”

“What are you talkin’ about, Brian?” I talked out of the side of my mouth.

“Ssshhh.” Brian put a finger to his lips. “I had this all planned out.” He turned to face Michael. Holding the box out, Brian made Michael face him directly, eye to eye. “Open it.” He held the box in his hand, waiting patiently for Michael to make a move.

The confusion on Michael’s face was heavily apparent. I went to cover my mouth, hoping to stem my screams should they come.

Brian blocked everyone’s view to what was inside. Michael opened the lid. He must have stared for two minutes, before glancing up at Brian... a smirk playing on his face. “Are you for real?”

Emmett stood off in the sidelines, the same as me, hands to his mouth. “What is it, Michael?”

A few more curious onlookers questioned the item’s identity.

“Yeah!”

“What is it?!”

“Come on! Tell us!”

My hands came down as I watched Michael look up at Brian. Tears streaming down his face. I knew then, I don’t know how, but it wasn’t what I had thought the box contained. I was very... very wrong, indeed.

Michael swallowed the lump in his throat. Everyone in the yard disappeared. Michael stood on tip-toe, hooked an arm around Brian, the box squished between their chests. Brian secured his arms about Michael, preventing him from falling. “You really DO love me, don’t you?”

My son’s breathless words echoed in my head as I watched Brian kiss Michael’s cheek, and dip his face toward the available ear. “With everything that I am.” A final squeeze, Brian pushed Michael away. “Show her, Michael.” He moved his head in my direction.

Show her? What did that mean?

Nodding his head, Michael inched down Brian’s long, lean body. He had to calm himself to be able to talk to me. He walked around Brian, coming right for me.

The box was open, facing him, so I couldn’t see inside.

As Michael approached, he spun the box in his palm.

On that pristine red velvet.. was no commitment rings, like I had thought. Instead, there lay a simple gold key.

What... in... the... hell...? A key? What did that symbolize?

I could feel a million eyes trained on me and my son. “What’s going on, Michael?” Hopefully, I could find truth in him, somewhere. I smiled through my befuddlement.

“It’s a key, Ma. It’s a key to our house.” Michael spoke as best he could without balling like he wanted to.

“Your house?”

“Our house.” Michael corrected what I was saying.

Something struck me at the tone to Michael’s words. “I don’t understand. Our house? Not... YOUR house?” It took me awhile, but it finally began to sink in.

I turned my gaze to where Brian stood in the background, hoping to avoid my wrath... or whatever I might throw his way. All he did was shrug his shoulders, like he was saying “What are you gonna do, Debbie?” Daring me to say something.

“Ma...” Michael stared intently at my non-reaction.

“What the fuck did you do, Brian Kinney?!”

“MA!” Michael reprimanded me.

Brian strolled over, replacing Michael, taking the box in his hands. He looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet in front of me. _**“If I could give you diamonds... for each tear you cried for me; If I could give you sapphires... for each truth you’ve helped me see; If I could give you rubies... for the heartache that you’ve known; If I could give you pearls... for the wisdom that you’ve shown; Then you’d have a treasure...Mom, that would mount up to the skies; That would almost match the sparkle in your kind, loving eyes; But I have no pearls, no diamonds, as I’m sure you’re well aware; So I give you gifts more precious... my devotion, love and care.”  
**_  
I stood struck dumbfounded. I had no need to be worried about my future. “You... memorized that for me?” The tears just fell.

“Yeah. It wasn’t too hard. Once I put my heart in it.”

I turned my eyes to my son, who was off to Brian’ left, completely flabbergasted by Brian’s efforts toward making me happy, safe and secure. “You don’t owe me a thing, kid.” I choked out.

“I know.”

“I never expected you to take care of me. I’m no charity case.” I wasn’t offended by their assumption that I needed their help at all. I was floored by their extraordinary capacity for love. Both... of my boys. “Did you know about this?” I shot a look to Michael, wondering if he’d been in on the secret.

Michael shook his head quickly. “No idea, Ma.” He couldn’t help smiling through his tears. “What do you say, Ma? Do YOU want to come live with Brian and I?”

“In sin?” I teased in gruffness.

Brian scrunched his face up. “Ew... I love you... but not THAT much!” He ducked in time to miss my swat, but Michael got the brunt of it.

“Ow!” Michael rubbed his elbow.

“Sorry.” Brian apologized for me, kissing Michael’s boo-boo. He came back to talk to me. “We won’t be living in sin, Deb.”

“What do you mean?” I looked between both of them. Almost, in sync, they pulled at the simple silver chains around their necks. One wedding band hung off the end. My eyes widened in shock. “You... little shits!”

I didn’t know how to react. So I just grabbed my golden key, held it to my chest, and grabbed my two sons... never wanting to let either of them go... holding on as long as they would let me... hopefully, forever...  


**==========THE END==========**


End file.
